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Prologue
New York City, July 13, 1977, A.D.
The Vatican, 2000 A.D.
Antiquity. To Roberto, the Vatican Library had the look, smell, and atmosphere of antiquity. After just getting off a 21st Century jet it was a marked pejorative sensation.
Psychically Diura said, “This place breeds musty negative ions.”
An hour later, Father Oscar led Roberto and Diura to stand before the aedicula, or “little temple,” in the lowest depths of the Basilica near the burial site of St. Peter. Roberto found himself trembling with excitement. Something was about to happen to him over which he had no control. The anticipation made him breathe rapidly. Meanwhile, Roberto could sense the anticipation of immortality popes had when they knew this would be their final resting place. Starting from the first Basilica constructed in the fourth century, their names, carved on marble sarcophagi, would be read by visitors through the ages. Now, in the present moment of the second Millennium, the anachronism was underlined for Roberto. Contrasting with the ancient inscriptions were their modern-day throwaway plastic protective coats, cell phones, pagers, and lanterns.
On his mind’s screen, Roberto could see tourists of the fourth century standing where they were, seeing the same sights, almost thinking the same thoughts. This was as close as Man could come, he thought, along with the pyramids and such, in his reach for immortality.
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